I Wrote This for You
by Shibalyfe
Summary: Draco is left coping with his life after Hermione leaves him. Find out how he rebuilds his life and what he will do when Hermione is thrust back into his world, five years after shattering his heart. A/U
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello! If anyone is following my other story, All My Friends are Heathens, I am still writing it! I have not abandoned it! You just will not believe my horrible luck! My laptop broke so I was saving up for a new one and then our puppy needed emergency surgery. So, it has taken me a bit longer then I had hoped to get a computer back! I finally have one, but have reworked my next chapter in All My Friends are Heathens so much that I needed to step away from it for a second so I can refocus. I will then relook at it and then upload it! I am so sorry for the delay!_

 _I am not planning on this being a one-shot, but if you feel it is better as a one-shot, let me know in the comments! This is my second fanfiction I have uploaded, so please help me become a better writer! If you have any comments, good or bad, please leave them for me to read. Please be constructive and helpful, not mean._

 _This story is going to do a lot of jumping from the past to the present. Ultimately, this first chapter starts about two years after the battle of Hogwarts, but the main storyline is set seven years post battle. Please let me know if it gets confusing. I really hope you enjoy the story!_

Draco cursed at himself as he woke up with the image of her face burned into his eyes. He sat up quickly in the bed and rubbed his hands over his face. It was like this every single night, every single day, every single moment. He knew he was going crazy. This wretched witch was going to kill him. He got up from the bed and made his way through the bedroom. He could tell by the lack of light that spilled through the windows that it was still very early in the morning. He should try to go back to bed but his dreams were just filled with her, filled with things she used to say, filled with things that they used to do together. They weren't together anymore and he didn't need the reminders.

Everything reminded him of what happened. Literally every fucking thing could somehow be linked to that infuriating women. When was it that his life become so involved around her, so wrapped up and entangled in hers? How could he ever forget how much she means to him? How could he ever forget her?

Draco made his way to the bathroom and turned on the water. He got in the shower and instantly regretted it. Her shampoo bottles were lined along the shelves and her body wash sat in the same spot it always did, unused. He started banging his fist on the wall. How many times had he washed her crazy hair in that very shower? Washed her glorious body? How many times had he fucked her in this very shower? How many times had she washed him, ran her hands along his body? He almost cried out when the memories assaulted his mind. It was too much for him. He needed to move, he needed to get away from all of the reminders, but he knew it wouldn't matter. He would never forget her.

The water beat down his back and washed away the blood from his knuckles. He wondered what it would feel like to drown. How would it feel to fill up his lungs with water instead of air? Would it be heavy? Draco already felt heavy, he already felt like he was drowning, drowning in his heart ache, in his own emotions.

This was the very reason his parents told him to guard his emotions. He had been trained from a young age to never show his feelings and he had grown to be rather good at it, until her. It all revolved around her. She was the first person to break down his walls. The first person to actually care about what he was feeling. The first person to make him feel like he was actually living and not just coasting through life. He had been free and happy when he was with her. Her love warmed his soul like the rays of the golden sun, they had colored his grey, dreary life and turned everything into vibrant colors. Her love of life was contagious and he had finally had a reason to live, he finally had a purpose in life, her. It all revolved around her. His heart had hurt from how much he had loved her, but now he was numb again. No, that's not true, he wasn't numb, his whole body just hurt. Every single thing was a painful memory of what they used to be. This was why his parents had told him to never fall in love, to never let someone hold that much power over him. But he did and now he was wishing for his nightmares of Voldemort over the vivid dreams of her. His parent may not have been right about much but they were right about this. She had destroyed him and all it took was a simple note. A simple goodbye and his glimpse of happiness was gone and now there was only pain. Pain was his constant companion and the irony was not lost on Draco. Pain was all he deserved. She had convinced him that he deserved more. That he could be forgiven for everything that he had done, that he deserved happiness, but here he was consumed by pain. He had always known that this was how his life was meant to be.

He stood in the downpour a little longer before shutting off the water and getting out. Not even bothering to grab a towel, water puddling at his feet and leaving a trail behind him as he made his way into the bedroom. He quickly grabbed sweatpants and whatever shirt he could find and made his way downstairs.

A house elf quickly appeared when he made his way to the kitchen.

"Anything I can get you mastah?"

Draco ignored the house elf and went straight to the liquor cabinet. He grabbed a handle of fire whiskey and a glass tumbler. Now, having everything that he needed for his perfect morning, he quickly made his way towards the fireplace. He could see her there, reading in the chair he was heading towards. He could see her there napping on the couch. He could see them having dinner by the fireplace, laughing at each other. He could feel the heat on her skin as they cuddled by the fire. He could see the way the flames danced on her skin as he worshipped her body on the very rug he was standing on. He threw his glass against the fireplace, shattering the glass.

He made his way towards the cursed chair, not caring how the smashed glass bit into his feet, probably causing him to bleed. He threw off the stopper to the fire whiskey and quickly threw the contents down his throat. The burn was a welcome distraction, if only momentary. He slouched against the chair, he was getting drunker with ever sip he took but it still wasn't enough. He could still remember every moment. He could still remember the last words she said to him. The last look she gave him.

His heart constricted in pain from the hurt. He was hoping this heart ache would kill him soon. It would make everything better. He had considered all the ways that he could kill himself, but he knew that he wouldn't be man enough to do it, just like how he wasn't man enough for her.

He tipped back the bottle and smashed it against the ground when he realized that it was empty.

"Another!" He shouted. A new bottle quickly appeared next to him and he wasted no time getting to work on emptying that bottle.

Soon he started to see her. This is how he knew he was sloshed. He always saw her, an image of her with her disapproving face. It was almost like she was with him again.

"Draco, stop this," she would say to him, "you can't do this, this isn't you. Please stop, you're breaking my heart."

"This is your fault," he would scream back at her, "You broke my heart, I don't care if I break yours. This is what you have reduced me too, this is what you've made me. You've always wanted to mold me into someone better, love, and this is what you've turned me into, a shadow of a man."

"Please stop," she would beg him, as tears adorned her face. The image always made Draco want to reach out and comfort her. He didn't like to see her cry, it almost hurt more than the heartache, even if it was all in his head. Even if it wasn't real.

Her tears had always had that effect on him. Anytime her eyes started to shimmer with tears he had wanted to move the moon and the earth for him. Anytime a tear made a path down her face he had wanted to kill whoever had caused her pain. He had learned early on that he had no strength against her tears, he would give her anything she wanted if the tiny droplets were falling from her eyes. If he was being honest with himself, he didn't have any strength against her when she wasn't crying.

"When you were mine, I would have done anything to make you happy. I would have done anything that you asked of me. You don't get to ask me to stop now. This is the only way, that only way that I get to see you again."

This would only cause her to cry harder and Draco could do nothing but watch her. He would stare at her as she sobbed into her hands, as she begged him to stop, as she told him how he was so much more than this, as she told him she loved him. Those words always brought Draco back. She didn't love him, if she did she would be here and he wouldn't have to drink himself into oblivion just to see her again.

He would then drink some more, trying to forget everything, her, the war, and even who he was. Eventually, if he was lucky, he would pass out. When he woke up it was the same. Rinse, lather, repeat. He was sure he was drinking away the Malfoy Fortune but he didn't care. No one could say he hadn't done his part in supporting the economy since he was positive, he was single handedly supporting the liquor business.

Sooner or later, a house elf would try to get him to eat. He could usually manage a few bites before he wasn't interested anymore. He knew he was dying. He was slowly starving himself but he didn't care. He couldn't eat, it held no appeal for him. Nothing did, not anymore, not since she left his side. He could feel himself getting weaker. It was harder to get himself down the stairs every day, harder to get himself to this cursed chair, but he didn't care. He couldn't get himself to care about anything really and his death would be one that he would welcome.

He had tried to go outside, he had tried to return to a normal life, but he couldn't. Everything reminded him of her, everything. Shortly after the breakup he had tried to move on with his life, he had tried to go out and rejoin the real world again but the remnants of their relationship haunted him everywhere he went. He couldn't handle it. For a while he would go out and get into fights. His broken face would adorn every paper. His angry eyes piercing anyone who dared to read the story. Once the anger ran out, he would start fights but he wouldn't fight back. He wouldn't defend himself once they started throwing punches, he just stood there welcoming the onslaught. The punches that the men threw at him eventually made him fall to the ground and he would lay there, embracing their kicks and punches with open arms. Draco would refuse medical attention, he wanted to feel physical pain instead of emotional pain for once. Eventually, Draco suspected due to Blaise's influence, no one would fight him anymore. Once he was unable to pick fights with anyone he didn't bother leaving the house.

He knew that the pictures of him broken and bleeding were plastered all across the tabloids and the daily prophet. He knew his parents would be rolling in their graves for the shame he was causing the Malfoy name but he didn't care. Maybe she would see it and realize what she had made him, what she had turned him into. He knew that he was a monster, he had done terrible things, had done unspeakable things, but she had changed that. She had turned him into a kind and caring person, she made him think he wasn't a monster. She showed him all of his potential, all of his worth, and then she fucking left him. She fucking left a hole in his very being. He hoped that she saw the pictures and it made her compassionate little heart bleed, that it made her sorry that she ever tried to fix him. He didn't have potential she did. Her heart, her energy, just spilled around him, around everyone. He just basked in her light and it fooled everyone else into thinking that he was worth something too. It was all her, it was always her.

He woke to cold water being poured on his face. He barely moved, barely reacted, he just blinked his eyes into focus.

"Draco," An irritated Blaise addressed him, "this is quite enough, it has been a month, no more self-pitying, no more wallowing in your misery. You are killing yourself."

"Then let me die," he responded in a raspy voice, his throat dry and scratchy from drinking and from lack of use.

"Draco, stop being so dramatic. We have all gone through heartaches, we have all gone through break ups. It's time that you talk to me about it, have a one night stand, and start to put your life together." He moved closer to Draco and shook his shoulders. "Get up!"

"This isn't just a heart ache, this is a soul ache, she was a part of me, she was everything to me," Draco quietly said, just saying it almost made him want to cry. "I begged her, I told her I would die without her. I was right."

"You are dying because of yourself, not because of what she did to you. You are being ridiculous. What do you think she thinks of you now? If she saw you right now what would she say to you?" Blaise questioned him, trying to get him to understand what he was doing to himself.

"She would probably say that I was being a git, and that I am still the same sniveling boy that she remembers from school," he relented.

Blaise nodded, "And she would be right, honestly Draco, you need to pull it together, if you ever want to win her back, you need to prove it, and you can't do that if you die."

"Blaise, she is everywhere, I can't escape her."

"Then remember all the good that she has done, remember all that she has stood for. Remember all that she changed within you, and remember those things by acting on them. Don't let the memories torment you, let them guide you."

"She was all I had," he whispered.

"You have yourself, Draco, that is enough," Blaise responded evenly.

Was it enough? Draco stared into the fire, thinking over what Blaise said, he was tormented, he wasn't sure if he would be able to actually live his life without her, but Blaise was right, he owed it to her and himself to try. He gave a slight nod of his head and then got up from the chair.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: This chapter is still set in the past. I am going to be doing a couple chapters in this format before we are caught up to the present day. That will be when the real meat and potatoes of this story begins but I do think that it is very important that I establish a background. Let me know your thoughts!_

April 18th, 2000

Dear Hermione,

I remember when you showed up at my house, that first time. It was storming and you were soaked to the bone. Your shirt clung to your body and when I invited you in your heels sloshed over the marble floors. You left muddy puddles in your wake as you made your way to the sitting room. Your hair was frizzy from the humidity and your makeup was running down your face. You were shivering from the cold and I had to order the house elves to bring you some clothes because your teeth wouldn't stop chattering. Yet, you still sat tall and proud on the couch, like a pillar of strength. My mother would have been impressed.

I was confused as to why you had showed up on my doorstep. No one really visited me, not anymore, not after the war. The few that did visit came directly in the Floo, I couldn't remember the last time someone had actually knocked on my door.

I asked you if you came to gloat and you looked hurt at my assessment. I had gotten the papers of course, the notice that I would have a 'companion' that would help rehabilitate me after the war. What I wasn't expecting was it to be you.

I demanded that you leave. But you refused. You stood up, looking ridiculous in my too-large-for-you hoodie that fell just before your knees and swallowed your arms in the sleeves. The extra fabric swaying violently at your sides as you wildly thrashed around your arms, punctuating each word you said with a ridiculous sweep of your hand.

I cannot get that image out of my head. You sporting my sweats which barely clung to your hips and wrapped in my hoodie. Your hair was a mess, like it usually is, and the fire danced across your skin causing you to glow in a heavenly light. I should have known then that you were going to be my angel.

It has been six months since you left and I am getting the Malfoy business back into shape. I am making new investments and the business is growing. I am actively investing in charities that I think you would approve of.

I am trying to get my life back together without you, but it is hard, so very hard.

Always Yours,

Draco

Draco heard a large bang and he immediately got up from his desk to investigate. He couldn't tell if it was the raging storm that had caused the commotion or something else. It wouldn't be the first time that someone had tried to deface his property. Had emblazed death eater in his front lawn or worst destroyed the garden with other filth. He had tried to cast protection spells to keep intruders out but thanks to the Ministry's restrictions he couldn't cast anything strong enough to actually deter even a slightly trained toddler. It was the price he had to pay.

Draco had been lucky enough than most. He was cleared of his crimes due to his young age. He suspected that it mostly had to do with the golden trio speaking for him in his trial, but the Ministry couldn't let him off because the-boy-who-lived had said he was good, so his age was the official reason. He never understood why they did speak for him, but here he was lucky but unlucky at the same time and in their debt.

He was a prisoner in his own house. The endless rooms and the giant vaulted ceilings making him feel more alone than ever. Without his mother's ordering everyone about and his father's stern expression following him about the manor, it just felt large and empty. He would never have called his home loving, but it had never felt empty.

His parents were not as lucky as him and had received the kiss for their part in the war a month ago. Draco was not surprised with the sentencing, they had supported the Dark Lord twice, they couldn't plead ignorance and the lives that were loss in the war could not be paid for by the Malfoy Fortune. His parents were not surprised by the outcome either and while Draco's father had very little to say to him, he wished he could have said the same for his mother.

His mother, Narcissa Malfoy, was a cold and severe women. She had always been the one to tutor Draco on etiquette and his duties to the family name. She had raised him to be a proper aristocratic gentlemen. His father was as manipulative as they came, but while his father was cunning, his mother was the one that had the ambition. Together they were cruel and influential. They were a force to be reckoned with and quickly climbed through the Dark Lord's ranks and basked in the glory of wealth and power. His parents were never ones to admit fault or defeat, this was no exception and his mother had blamed their loss on him. Blamed their deaths on him.

"Stupid boy," she had hissed at him, "This is all your fault. If you had identified those filthy traitors when they were at our house this wouldn't have happened. We could be basking in the glory of the Dark Lord, surrounded by those who only wished they were us, instead your father and I are rotting away in a cold cellar. You stupid, weak boy. Look at where your actions have led us? Your father and I will be killed and you, you will be an outcast for the rest of your life. No honorable, pureblood family will accept your proposal for their daughter and you will die alone. All this hard work for our legacy and the Malfoy name will end up dying out. Disgusting. I have never been so ashamed of you, I cannot even bare calling you my son. I will die as a childless mother." And with that, she turned her head away from him and decidedly ignored him. She was sentenced to death the next day.

Her words still haunted him, but he couldn't feel sorry for not giving up his former classmates. It would have meant that they would have had eternal glory in The Dark Lord's world, but that was not a world he had wanted to live in. He had experience enough in that world when the Dark Lord had lived with them. It was dark, cold, and brutal. Draco had barely survived that short amount of time and he had been away at Hogwarts for most of that period in his life. He knew he wouldn't have survived in a whole world run by the Dark Lord. He would have died one way or another. He always knew it was only a matter of time.

Another loud sound interrupted his thoughts, and Draco was positive that it was a knock on his door and not thunder this time. He continued his way down that long, marble corridor and stopped before the wooden door. He took a deep breath preparing for whatever was on the other side of the door. He didn't trick himself into thinking that whoever was pounding on his door, the first time in years, would be someone he wanted to see. He took a deep breath in and opened the large mahogany door.

The sight of a wet Hermione Granger greeted him once the door had been opened. She was wearing a professional button down shirt that clung to her body and suit pants. Her high heels were covered in mud and her curls were weighed down by the rain. Makeup had run down her face and a look of relief passed over her as she met his gaze through the open door.

He just stared at her and quirked an eyebrow in confusion, "Can I help you, Granger?"

"Oh yes, but can we discuss this inside? It's raining, you know."

"I had noticed," he said dryly. He debated between letting her in or slamming the door in her face before he reluctantly took a step back and allowed her to enter.

He didn't say anything before turning on his heels and leading her to the sitting room right off of the entranceway. He heard her wet footsteps following behind him and called out for his house elf. "Brandle!"

An immediate pop was heard as the house elf appeared at his side.

"Yes sir?" asked Brandle.

Draco turned and examined Hermione, he took in her wet appearance and her blue lips before turning back to the house elf. "Bring Ms. Granger some clothes to change into and please wipe up the puddles when you get a chance, we don't want anyone getting injured."

"Oh," Hermione stammered, "I… I don't need a change of clothes. I will be fine. So nice of you to offer though."

He led her to the plush couch by the fire, before turning to her again, "Granger, what makes you think I am doing it for your benefit. I can't have mud all over my velvet couch. It would be a nightmare for the house elves. I also can't let you die because you froze to death. That would complicate my life too much. I can see the headlines now, 'Golden Girl Dead at hands of a Deatheater-Final act of defiance.' No thank you."

At that moment, Brandle appeared, and handed Draco the clothes before bowing. Draco quickly passed the clothes along to Hermione before directing the house elf to show Hermione where the bathroom was so she could change.

"Leave your old clothes with Brandle, he will make sure they are dry by the time you are ready to leave. Thank you Brandle. " He gave a little nod to the house elf and then sat down in the green, velvet chair across from the couch.

He watched Hermione as she excited the room, talking animatedly to the house elf. He furrowed his brows in confusion. 'Why was she here?' The war had been over for six months now and he hadn't really seen anyone from Hogwarts except for Blaise and Theo. His trial was three months ago and he had heard that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had both spoken for him, but he had not actually been there for the deliberation, he was only brought out during the sentencing.

His magic was bonded to the ministry and they allowed him usage of a small percentage of it. It wasn't enough to do anything with really, which was what they had wanted. He was placed on probation for two years. During those two years he had been mandated a handler. This handler would live with him for eighteen months. They would try to help him cope and reestablish his life. When the eighteen months were up, the handler would move out and would check on him once a week. After the two years were up, the handler had to give a written report on his progress and the ministry would deliberate on whether or not he should receive full control of his magic at that time or if he needed more counseling.

He had been placed on house arrest until a handler for him could be found and he had just received a letter last week that a handler for him had been found and he could be expecting their arrival shortly.

With a jolt, he shot up out of his chair, his sudden clarity shocking him. Hermione couldn't be his handler. There was no way he would allow this. He would rather receive the kiss of death then let her hear his dark secrets. Then let her counsel him. The thought scared him but what other reason did she have to be here?

He heard Hermione enter the room and he turned to face her, his grey eyes as cold as steel. He watched her cautiously as she sat down on the couch, tiny droplets of water still falling from her hair. Her lips were still a pale shade of blue and her teeth were still chattering as she began speaking.

"Draco," she started nervously, "Thank you so much for the hospitality. It has been awhile since we have seen each other. It is a shame how little I see anyone really, except for Harry and Ginny, I see them an awful lot. Sometimes I see Luna but she has been…."

"Enough," Draco said, "Why are you here? Come to gloat about being the golden girl? I assure you, I still read the Daily Prophet and I see your name plastered all across it. Or maybe this is part of your charity work? Come to help the deatheaters? The golden girl lighting the way into goodness for those evil souls lost in the dark." He spat at her.

He watched as her back stiffened and her cheeks dusted with anger. She took one long breath before she turned and looked him directly in the eyes. Her golden, brown eyes filled with hurt as they clashed with his stony, grey ones.

"Honestly Draco, I thought we were over this schoolish nonsense," she stated calmly, "I am here for the Ministry though not the Daily Prophet as you might believe. I am sure you are well aware of the restrictions you have been placed under. I am also sure that you have received a letter that a handler has been found for you. Well, there really is no easy way to say this, but I am she. I will be your handler."

He saw Hermione studying him and waiting for his reaction. He felt her eyes on him and still he couldn't control the flames of anger that were covering his face and neck. The heat of it coloring his face pink and making it hard for him to think clearly. He tried to calm himself down but all he could do was shout the first thing that came to mind, "Get out!"

"Get out of my house!" He yelled, "I will not be counseled by the likes of you!"

"The likes of me?" Hermione gasped, she stood up from the couch and started lecturing him. "The likes of me? I am only here because no one else wanted you! No one wants to deal with your arrogant ways and your haughty attitude and that includes me! I am here because it was either me or you get sent to Azkaban until someone is willing to become your handler. I don't want to be here so the best option is for us both to be civil and for you to do what I tell you! It will make this whole ordeal go by faster!"

She was panting as she stood in front of him. Her eyes were glinting angrily as she stared at him, daring him to say anything that contradicted what she said.

"I will take Azkaban then. You can show yourself out and go back to whatever Ministry hole you crawled out from"

She stared at him in shock and then her rage exploded on him with full force, "I will not leave this house. I am staying here and you had better get used to it!"

He moved towards her and grabbed her shoulders ushering her out of the room. He was practically dragging her to the door until she stomped on his foot and he let go of her shoulder in surprise. She ran past him and up the stairs. Draco shouted after her.

"Get back here! You do not have my permission to be in this house!"

He heard Hermione running through the upstairs hall, the portraits shouting profanities at her as she made her way through the house. He cursed as he tried to put weight on his foot, the small throb pulsating through his toe, but he clenched his teeth and took off up the stairs after her, ignoring his pain. He stumbled up the stairs after her, slipping on the mud she left in her wake.

He got to the top of the stairs and saw her high heels abandoned on one side of the hallway, a pool of mud surrounding them. He grimaced, at least he would no longer slip on the mud but she was probably faster now.

He continued running forward and saw a flash of her brown hair before she dodged into a room. He ran up to the door, his fists banging on it ferociously.

"Get out of there this instant!"

"NO!" she shouted back defiantly.

He tried jiggling the door handle but of course she locked it. He cursed to himself again. He didn't have his wand and while he once was able to perform wandless magic, he was unable to in his weakened magical state. He quickly summoned Brandle to get his wand before turning his attention back to the door.

He could hear her behind the door shuffling through things. He heard her let out a gasp and he redoubled his effort to open the door. He started throwing himself against the wooden doors hoping the old lock would give, but it held firm. Brandle appeared before him and he quickly grasped the wand and brandished it at the door. "Alohamora!" He heard a small click and quickly threw the doors open.

"What do you think you are doing!?" He shouted at her.

He stopped short when he saw her look of horror. She was staring at him wide-eyed, her mouth quivering as she stared at him.

"I…I….I… I am so sorry, Draco," she said quietly. "I was just looking for something to hold as….as…a ransom of sorts until you agreed to let me stay here."

Draco stared at her quietly before looking down into her hands, horror overcame him now as the room registered in his mind. He was too distracted at the time to realize what room she had entered. The dark, green walls surrounded him felt like they were closing in. He tried to stammer a lie but he couldn't get the words to form and he ended up grappling like a fish.

"I am so sorry," Hermione whispered, "I had no idea. If your parent's treated you like this," she raised the rusty, spiked whip in her hand. "I….," she stammered again before dropping it on the ground and walking towards him cautiously. "I knew your parents were cruel, but never imagined they would be so cruel to their own son. I am so sorry, Draco," she said as she put her arms around him and enveloped him in a hug.

He stared at the metal whip on the ground, unable to move. He was assaulted with the memories of his time spent in this room. His mother would chain him, shirtless to the seatee when he was younger. As he grew older, she would make him stand and take his punishment like a man. He would have to stand with his hands on the fireplace mantle and not make a sound as she brought the whip cracking down on his back. The spikes biting into him. He would bite his lips until they bleed to keep from shouting out, if he failed the punishment would start over. He had blacked out on several occasions only earning another whipping when he finally came to for being so weak.

The whip wasn't the only punishment that he suffered, but it was his mother's favorite. She preferred feeling the heavy, iron grip in her hand as she brought it down noisily across his back. Her whole body arching as she brought it down on him and heard his muffled groan of pain. The loud clinking of the metal chain as it hit the ground only added to her experience. She preferred physical torture as opposed to magical. It was more enjoyable that way, she had explained it to him once, "it isn't just your thoughts directing the torture, this is your physical superiority causing the injuries. It is exhilarating Draco, you will learn soon enough."

He hadn't been in that room in a few years. The Dark Lord did all of the punishing in the manor so his mother was unable to find a reason to bring him back to her favorite room in the house.

He could feel his stomach clench and he thought he was going to be sick. Hermione shifted so she was at his side, instead of in front of him. She rubbed his back and slowly ushered him out of the room muttering little calamities at him. She shifted his weight so he was leaning against the cold wall and pulled out her wand. She aimed it at the door and shouted a spell.

Draco dazedly stared at the door and watched as it disappeared and slowly blended in to the wall surrounding it. He was still a little dazed when Hermione's sad face turned to him again.

"There," she stated, "Now no one will ever have to see that horrible room again!"

She nudged her way under Draco's arm so she could hold him up better and placed her arms on his waist. She shouted for Brandle and demanded that he start making some calming tea for Draco. As she shouted orders to the house elves Draco knew that there was no way he was going to get her to leave now. His life would never be the same.


	3. Chapter 3

_November 22, 2000_

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I understand the irony in my coping mechanisms. Here I am writing letters to you that I will never send. I am writing down my thoughts and feelings just like you taught me, but this time I am not writing about my nightmares. I am not writing about the Dark Lord or my parents. I am writing about a much greater pain. It's funny actually, I thought my life couldn't have gotten any darker then when I was living among the Dark Lord and his followers, but here you are proving me wrong again._

 _I am not sure if you actually understand what you did to me that night, the full ramifications of you leaving. I hope not. I hope that maybe I wasn't clear to you about my intentions. That you couldn't see the love that oozed out of my pores every time I even thought about you. Maybe you had no idea how truly smitten I was. I find it hard to believe, you were never the clueless one. But I honestly hope that you had no idea what you were truly doing, because thinking that you could be so heartless and send my world burning to the ground, knowingly, well that doesn't seem like you either._

 _You have to understand how much I wanted to hate you that night, how much I wished that hate instead of loss filled my soul. I couldn't though. I couldn't hate you if I tried, even after you tore my heart from me and ripped all the happiness from life, I couldn't hate you. If I'm being honest with myself, I always knew it was coming. You were light and goodness and I was nothing but a dark, cursed soul._

 _I had always wondered when the blackness of my soul was going to cast shadows across yours. I had always known that my demons would be too much for an angel like you. It was always there whispering, in the back of my mind that I didn't deserve you and even while I knew this, sometimes I could forget that fact. Sometimes I let myself pretend that I had a future with you._

 _I had never let myself think about the future before, I didn't think that I was going to live long enough to have a future. Even if I did live long enough, I thought my future was going to be chosen for me._

 _Even though the war took so much from everyone, so much from me, it also gave me a second chance, a clean slate. You always liked to remind me of that. That I could do anything I wanted to now without my parents looming over me, disapproving of what I chose to do._

 _I don't know when it started, when I started thinking of a future with you. Maybe it was the first time I saw you? The first time you came over? I spat my angriest words at you and you just pushed your way further into my house and told me you weren't going anywhere._

 _I think I believed you. But you did go and you left me here._

 _I don't know when exactly I fell in love with you, maybe I always was? I don't know, all I do know is that I never saw a future before but now when I think about my future all I see is you. I wanted you to have my children and bear my name. I wanted to spend every day by your side._

 _That won't happen now._

 _It has been exactly one year since you decided you were better off without me. One year that my life has been cast in shadows. One whole year that I am tormented with the ghost of you. It isn't getting any easier without you. The memories of you assault me daily, everywhere I go. I see your phantom ghost greet me every time I come home. I can still imagine the warmth of your body next to me in our bed. My nostrils are still filled with the scent of the tea that you liked to drink and I still find myself in the habit of reading before bed like we used to do._

 _I haven't been able to bring myself to move anything. Your toothbrush is still right next to mine on the sink. The book you were reading is still on the table next to your favorite chair and my now worn, black hoodie is still hanging in your closet. Everything is right where you left it, everything is ready for you to come back home. I am ready for you to come back home._

 _I don't know if I can keep fighting your memory. It wants to consume me and I want to let it. Please come back home._

 _Always yours,_

 _Draco_

~ 0 ~

Over the next couple of weeks Hermione and Draco had developed a routine. They spent their days together in a comfortable companionship. At first, it was awkward, there was long pauses as they both tried to be nice to each other. Both of their words overly sweetened to appease the other. They skirted around topics and stayed in neutral territory, until one day during breakfast everything changed.

Hermione's hand gripped the daily prophet as she read an article so intensely that Draco was sure the paper was going to set itself on fire. She turned to Draco, her eyes glowing as she slammed the paper onto the table. Draco could feel her anger coming off of her in waves and he was almost too scared to ask what was wrong, too scared to break the fragile peace they had found with one another.

Turns out he hadn't had to ask, she quickly launched into a detailed summary of the article. The ministry requiring every werewolf to have a tracking charm placed on them. She lectured him about the injustices of it all. She spewed facts, barely coming up from air, as her hands flying wildly around her.

"They are humans too, they have rights! How could they! I have fought so hard against. Did you know that werewolves cause less harm then a stray spell and do you know how many people actually get killed by stray spells!? Less than ten witches and wizards a year get hit with stray spells, usually the stray spell is from a young family member, an untrained with or wizard! I don't see the Ministry tracking them! Werewolves can learn control, they just need a better access to medicines that would allow them to gain control of their wolf form, honestly!"

Her face flushed to a deep red and she finally paused to take a deep breath.

"Hermione, they DO have tracking spells on young witches and wizards to prevent unnecessary deaths. This is the same thing, they are just trying to track their movements, become aware of where they are. They aren't forcing them into a community to tear each other apart! They aren't placing restrictions on them. The ministry is just doing what is best for our safety," he calmly stated.

"Oh yes, the Ministry is so concerned about our safety," she said dangerously, "that is why they didn't do anything about Voldemort until he was staring them in the face. Honestly! It is time we get new management in the Ministry, people that actually care about the public, not their own agendas."

Draco fired back a retort and they were right back to arguing with each other. They were screaming in each other's faces and slamming their fists on the table. It was like they were reliving their Hogwarts days. She had stormed off in a rage and stomped on every single stair as she made her way to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Draco had started to worry after a couple of hours. Would she go to the ministry and tell them that he was never going to change? If she did he would never have a chance of being free.

He quickly began searching the house for her. He had looked in the kitchen, the study, the library, the dining room, and the sitting room. He was currently trying her bedroom door again in the hopes that she was just ignoring him. He shouldered open the door and found it just as empty as the rest of the house. Panic began to rise in his chest. Where had she gone? Maybe she actually had left him to go to the Ministry?

He was absentmindedly walking down the stairs, consumed by panic and dark thoughts of what Azkaban would hold for him, when a house elf walked past him and he was suddenly struck with an idea.

"Have you seen where Miss Granger is?"

"Oh yasss sir, Bingley, has just served her tea in the back garden."

"Thank you, Bingley," he said as he took off running down the stairs.

He slowed his pace before calmly stepping out into the back gardens. He had to squint his eyes as the sun assaulted them. It had been so long since he had been out in the gardens that the overgrowth surprised him. The pathway was almost blocked by the weeds and he had trouble believing that Hermione was out here.

He made his way down the stone pathway and heard her humming to herself. She was sitting on a bench overlooking the lake, her head was thrown back soaking in the sun and her eyes were closed as she hummed joyfully, a book laying across her lap. The sun threw rays around her head, giving her the illusion of a halo.

He slowly walked towards her and regretted the moment that she was alerted of his presence, she immediately stopped humming and opened her eyes. Watching him cautiously as he made his way towards her, her eyebrows arched.

She shifted on the bench to make room for him and he slowly sat himself down on the bench. He felt stiff and awkward and found that he couldn't bring himself to look at her. He was awed by the vision he had just witnessed. The golden hues of the sunlight looked like she was lighting up from within. Draco suddenly felt ashamed at himself for acting the way he had. He was nothing but a spoiled child that had thrown a temper tantrum and she was goodness, even the heavens were trying to tell him that he was nothing in her presence. She had been and always would be better than Draco, he could see that clearly now.

He was so flustered that he felt his ears grow red and warm as her gaze fell on him. He focused on a swan swimming peacefully in the lake, and stammered through an apology.

He was being such an idiot. He normally spoke so eloquently and held himself with grace and dignity and here he was, not even able to make eye contact with her. When had he become this sniveling coward? When had he become a babbling idiot?

"Why are you apologizing?" she had asked him, her brows wrinkled in confusion.

"Because you stormed off, I obviously upset you," he shrugged calmly, his tinted ears giving away his discomfort.

"Draco," she said, her eyes narrowing into slits, "why are you really apologizing?" Her voice hinting at suspicion.

He stared at the swan, watching it swim peacefully before taking off in flight. No longer having anything to anchor him, he turned to Hermione. Her eyes, wide and curious, as they stared back at him.

He sighed deeply before resigning himself into an explanation, "I am sorry I was insensitive and upset you, Hermione. I didn't mean to act like a child. I can change, I promise. I never meant to upset you like that, I…"

She cut him off with a laugh, "Draco, what on earth are you going on about? If anything I was behaving far more childish than you. You are entitled to your own opinions, Draco."

He shifted and stared down at his shined leather shoes. "So you won't tell the Ministry?" he asked quietly.

"What?!" she exclaimed as she turned towards him, "You thought I was going to tell the Ministry we had an argument?" He barely nodded his head before she grasped his hands in hers and forced him to look at her. "Draco, I need you to understand that I believe in you. I want you to succeed in this. Having a disagreement doesn't make you a bad person. I, for one, am thrilled you believe in something so fiercely. That is honestly your first step to recovery, to become your own person! You surprised me today Draco."

The weight on his shoulders visibly lifted and his face turned light hearted as he turned back to the water.

"You surprised me to, ya know," he proclaimed.

"Oh?" Hermione asked.

"Ya," he chuckled, "Your nose wasn't actually stuck in a book when I found you. I believe that is a first."

"Oh you, you git!" she exclaimed as she gently pushed him and stuck her tongue out at him before huffing back to the house. He followed giggling after her.

From that day forward, they began their companionship. They would have heated debates, but they had learned to control their tempers. They argued (a lot) but it never grew to a yell and it never got out of control. They actually began to enjoy the intellectual debates they had and slowly began to enjoy each other's company. They would talk, debate, and spend time together. While their conversations ranged to all sorts of topics, they had never brought up that room, or the war, to which Draco was thankful for.

Draco knew it was only a matter of time until they broached the subject, that was why she was here after all, he reminded himself.

They were in the library when she finally dared to broach the subject with him.

She was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace. The summer was starting to turn into fall and the breeze was beginning to bring a certain chill with it. The fires were almost always lit now, and he almost always found Hermione settled in front of one. Whether it was just to drink her tea or reading a book.

She turned to him as he entered the room. His footsteps echoing loudly on the stone floor and she gave him a sour look at being disturbed. He threw his hands in front of him in mock surrender.

"Woah, easy killer," he mocked, "I come in peace! I was just checking if you would like one of the tarts the house elves made? They are fresh from the oven and I know how you prefer them that way."

Her eyes lit up and she instantly closed her book and rose to her feet.

"You are beginning to know me too well, Mr. Malfoy," she said with a smile and walked over to him placing her hand on his arm.

He bowed like a gentleman and began to walk her towards the table was in the middle of the room, the fire cackling behind them. He pulled out her seat for him and she dropped into a mock curtsey.

"Oh, you are too kind to me, sir," she said with a southern tang coating her words and a giggle clinging to her breathed.

He bowed and retorted in an equally ridiculous accent, "Oh golly, Missus Grangaaaaa, it is such an honor to even be in your presence, you know I just live to serve you."

She broke out into a fitful of giggles and his face lit up with the sound of her laughter bouncing on the walls. The laughter slowly died down and he looked up to see her staring at him intensely.

He could feel the back of his neck begin to heat, so he busied himself with serving the tarts and focused on eating his before he glanced up at her again, she was still staring at him intently while her hands tore apart the pastry.

Distracted, she put down the pasty, and he instantly knew that something was off, dread filled his stomach.

"Draco, "she said slowly, cautiously, "How can you still joke and be so good natured with what you lived through?" Her eyes pooling slightly. "It makes me sick to think of what happened here, what happened to you, and yet here you are. You're not evil, how can that be? You were such an evil little boy, you know that right?" she asked, her lips forming a fragile smile as tears slowly began to streak her cheeks.

He took a deep breath and slowly walked over to her side of the table and grabbed her hands, forcing her to turn and face him, he knelt to the ground so he could stare into her eyes.

"Don't cry for me Hermione. I am not worth your tears. You, you have suffered so much and you still see nothing but the good in people. I wish I could be more like you, so trusting, so good, so pure. I'm not, I won't ever be like that. People will always see you for what you are, a heroine. I will always be the bad guy and I have learned to accept that."

He rose to his feet and she buried her face into his shirt. Her sobs muffled by his shirt.

"That isn't true Draco! You have been through so much more than me, your parent's, the war, the evil that you had to live with on a daily basis. You have been through so much more, it isn't fair." She paused and then turned her head to look up at him earnestly, "You have a completely new future now, you can do anything you want to do, you have a fresh start. You can change people's opinions, you can show them you are a good guy!" Her words were laced with her conviction.

"Hermione, I'm not though," He began to pull away from her, "You don't know the things I have done."

"Then tell me," Hermione whispered, her face streaked with tears and her eyes pleading with him.

He sighed softly before slowly sinking into the chair next to hers. "I can't, I don't like to think about that time."

"Draco, that doesn't change the fact that it happened." She reached out to him to rub his arm, "Maybe talking about it will help you see how far you've come from that boy, I can see the difference but I don't think that you can."

He stared at the hand on his arm and he was torn. He wanted to open up to her, he wanted to get the terrible things off of his chest, he wanted to hear her say that it wasn't his fault, but what if she thought it was? What if she pulled away in disgust the moment he spilled his darkest secrets to her. She was still so pure, so innocent, and had s so much faith in him. There was no way that she would still see the good in him after he told her the evil things he had done, the things he was ashamed of himself.

"I can't!" He hissed at her and got up to walk out of the room. He needed to be alone. He couldn't let her see him like this, tormented.

"Draco," she called after him, sniffling and he paused, "at least… at least think about writing it down. I… I write notes sometimes. Letters to people I will never get to see again or to people I will never actually say the things I want too to them, but it makes me feel better, getting it off of my chest, expressing my feelings to 'someone' makes me feel better. Maybe, just…just give it a try? You can't become a better person if you don't see how far you have come. I see it, but you don't, you need to believe it for yourself before other people will be able to see that you aren't the bad guy."

The very next day he went out and got a monogrammed leather bound notebook. He wouldn't be able to talk to Hermione about the things that he had done, but maybe writing them down and getting them off of would make the nightmares stop. After all, what did he really have to lose?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I know! I know! I am so terrible. Work was supposed to be slowing down but it is actually getting busier. We are having a ton of problems and it is consuming so much of my day, but I am really making an effort to make my stories more of a priority. I already have the next chapter in this story and my other one started. I should be able to get it started within the next couple of weeks.

With everyone asking about why Hermione left, I promise you will find out, just not yet! MAWHAHA

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I am sitting in my study writing this letter. The house is so silent I can hear the stroke of my quill on the parchment, the grandfather clock ticking in the hall, and the house elves finishing supper in the kitchen. The dull clanging of pots and pans echoing in my ears is like my own personal anthem for how quiet my life has become. You used to fill this house with noise but it always helped me to think clearer. The sweet melody of your laughter carved out a place for you in my heart and in my future. Your humming had me imagining you cradling a blonde baby in your arms, singing him softly to sleep. When you shouted at me I just imagined that same flushed face beneath me in bed as you shouted with ecstasy instead._

 _The mundane noise surrounding me now just reminds me of how quiet my life has become, of how miserable I am without you. I can't remember ever feeling so alone, even in the manor. This house used to be filled with noise, with laughter, and with warmth and now it just feels empty, a clear reflection of my life._

 _Blaise thinks it is time for me to move out and to move on, but I don't think I want to leave. I still have this hope that you will walk through those doors one day. If I move, how will you find me?_

 _This home is filled with so many memories, so many firsts for you and I, how am I supposed to just leave all of that behind?_

 _I remember when we first found this place, how you had to convince me to move from the Malfoy Manor. You said that the house's bad memories were stopping me from becoming the man I could be, from healing properly. You said that I was still competing with the ghosts from my past. Still trying to please the memories of those who used to surround me, my past always haunting me. You said getting a new house, a place all my own would help me into the next stages of my life. Help me take responsibility for my own life and take back my control over it._

 _You had to trick me to even go looking at houses, you were always a smart witch and knew exactly how to get what you wanted in the end. You knew I wouldn't just let go of my heritage, so you tricked me, just like you tricked your way into becoming a part of my life. I never wanted it, I never expected it, but now I can't picture my life without you even though nothing but your memory is beside me now. Maybe it still hasn't completely sunken in? It has been three years and I still think you will come back. I still_ _ **hope**_ _that you will come back. How pathetic am I? You really did get the best of me, the last leg up, and here I am trying to get through the ruins that is my life. I may be getting through my life without you, waking up every day on my own, going through the motions of living but I feel like an empty shell, like an outsider watching me live my life, a disconnect between the world around me. You brought color into my life and now that you are gone I just see different shades of grey. I am not living, I am just managing._

 _Blaise wants me to move and to start dating again. He doesn't understand, no one will compare to you. He thinks that moving will help me through this. That it will help me close the final door on you and our what-could-have-beens. I am not sure I am ready to do that. I should be, I should be ready to throw you away just as easily as you threw me away but getting over you is just a pipe dream. I can't imagine it every happening. I can't imagine a time when a crisp memory of you isn't at the forefront of my mind. If my soul was ever whole, it certainly isn't now._

 _I just can't picture myself moving, packing up my stuff while leaving all of your things behind. I don't think it would do any good anyway. So I will stay here and watch my life as it passes by without me._

 _I am not ready to give you up yet, not completely. It has been three years and I have accepted the fact that you are done with me. I have hope that you will come back, a sliver of chance that you miss me, but the facts point to the truth. I have never been the optimistic sort and your absence in my life is a glaring sign that you aren't coming back or you would be here now. The hope that I had for you has died into a small flickering flame, never extinguishing, but I am no longer feeding it. I know you don't want to be found. The most highly decorated wizards have been trying to find you since the day that you left, three years and barely a trace of you has been found. Barely a whisper of your whereabouts have been uncovered. You have outsmarted them, you have outsmarted everyone and made it very clear that you don't want to be found. Tomorrow, I will call them off. Tomorrow, I will stop looking for you. I will give up ever finding you and just hope that you make your way back home to me._

 _Always yours,_

 _Draco_

"Draaaco," Hermione whined and stomped her foot. "Listen to me! Moving is the best solution! You can create a whole new place for yourself! You can do whatever you want, decorate it however you want, you won't need to paint it that ugly green color if you don't want to."

"I happen to like green," Draco replied quietly.

He wasn't paying attention to Hermione as they walked along the garden pathway. He was thinking about what she said. He didn't want to move, this was his ancestral home. Generations of Malfoys grew up in this home. It has been passed down for years and now it was his. Growing up, he couldn't wait until he possessed the Malfoy Manor, until he was the master of the house, he knew once he was Lord of the house, he could make his own rules, do whatever he wanted and he wouldn't have to answer to anyone.

Draco looked back at the manor, the dark silhouette shadowed from the sun and was torn. He knew he would never be the Lord of the house, not like his father. Draco didn't demand respect, he didn't come stomping into rooms, didn't bark orders to everyone. He wasn't cruel like his mother, causing others to cower in fear and awe of her. He was quiet and reserved, could he ever fully command a home that had so many strong leaders in the past? He saw the way the portraits snickered at him and turned up their noses at him. He heard how they called him a disgrace to the family name, but he still wasn't sure he could give up his home. It was the only place that was his, the only place he truly belonged in the world. The manor may not be a warm home, but it was still his home.

"Draco," Hermione muttered quietly and he snapped out of his thoughts to stare at her. She was a couple feet ahead of him on the stone pathway but she was looking back at him, her eyebrows etched with concern.

When she saw that she had finally gotten his attention she completely turned to face him now and reached out for his hand. She pulled him along the pathway before she sighed heavily.

"Draco," she mumbled, "You don't have to move, but I really do think it would be best for you. You have no life here, no offense," she added quickly. "You are competing with ghosts, with old expectations. That isn't your life anymore. I can feel it you know, the constant struggle. One day you're great and improving and I can really see the difference in you. The next day you retreat further into yourself and grow cold towards me. I know that this change won't happen overnight and I know it is a struggle for you, but why are you making it more difficult for yourself? It is like you improve and you open up to me and then you remember that Malfoy's don't share feelings and you close yourself off again. I'm not saying that you have to get rid of the Manor, we both know you have enough money to keep this house. I am just saying that maybe your own place would be good for you," she squeezed his hand gently. "Please just think about it, Draco."

After the walk in the garden, Hermione left Draco alone for a couple of weeks. He wasn't even sure if she was still in the house because he never saw her. Either she was avoiding him or she really did have other work she had to do.

He felt her absence deep in his bones. It was strange. Hermione had become so much a part of his daily routine that it was weird not hearing her constant chattel. He felt alone, the same way he had felt before she got there, trapped and isolated. The coldness of the manor seeping back into his bones. He remembered how lonely he had felt, how cut off from the world he had felt before she got there and he was amazed at how much of a difference one annoying witch could have in his life.

He made sure to wait up for her that night, he stayed in his study and listened to the grandfather clock in the hall as the minutes ticked by. As the hours grew later, he was starting to get worried, he thought of trying to find her, but he knew he couldn't. He was still under house arrest and he had no idea where she would be.

He started to pace in his study when he finally heard a soft 'pop' in the distance, marking her arrival. He quickly stormed from his study into the main hall. He heard her cursing to herself as she fumbled with the doorknob. He heard several items fall onto the wooden deck before she finally opened the door. The light spilled over her face as she blinked at him in surprise. She was wearing a skirt and a tight blouse. She would have looked very professional if it wasn't for all the rumpled papers falling out of her hands.

"Oh Draco," she said surprised, "what are you doing up?"

"I was waiting for you. Do you know what time it is? Where were you?" he demanded.

Hermione bowed her head a little sheepishly and bit her lip before answering, "I was out, I do have a job you know, and I'm fine DAD, thanks!" She articulated and began to storm away, stray papers falling on the floor in her wake.

He was stunned and gaped after her, his mouth gaping like a fish, before he gathered his wits and chased after her.

"That isn't fair, I was just… just…. you know, wondering where you were. I haven't heard from you in weeks and since when does the Ministry require late hours, it's a government job, highly regulated. Unless," he added sharply, "You were out on a date."

He eyed her over, narrowing his eyes, before shaking his head, "Yes, that would make sense, I mean look at you, you look like a women. Yes, that would make sense." He declared.

Hermione's cheeks reddened under his gaze, "I was NOT on a date! How do you think that would even work Draco… hmm? Oh no worries good sir, no need to escort me home, I am sure my male roommate is waiting up for me. Oh him, don't worry about him, it's only Draco Malfoy, ya know the guy named one of the sexiest bad boys in witches weekly, don't worry about him." She shrugged theatrically, "I am sure that every man would be very understanding of the situation. Don't be ridiculous Draco."

She put her things down on the kitchen counter before making her way back into the entryway to collect her fallen papers.

Draco followed her, "then where have you been?" He asked nonchalantly.

"For your information," she huffed, "The ministry does have very regulated work hours. Eight hours a day, but I had some… some …. appointments," she said, her cheeks reddening again, "So I had to make up the hours later in the day."

"What type of appointments?" Draco asked suspiciously. He bent down to pick up the papers before he examined what was in his hand. It was a house listing with a giant red x across the front. "Hermione," he said through clenched teeth, "what did you do?"

She avoided his gaze and sighed heavily, "Well I wasn't going to push you, but I thought, well I thought it might be nice to have some vetted homes once you agreed to get a new place."

"Hermione, I haven't agreed to move yet." His voice strained.

"I know, I know," she said, "I was just hoping that you would agree. I mean the only thing that is holding you back is the fact that you are scared."

"I am not scared!" Draco forcibly yelled at her.

"Great!" Hermione cried triumphantly, "we can go look at houses tomorrow. I have some great options lined up for you! I don't know how you are going to pick, they are all so wonderful!"

She looked at him happily as she chattered on about the houses she had lined up for him, this one had a large backyard, this one was so close to the ministry, and this one out in the country. This one had a lovey garden and that one had lovely grey shutters. Draco barely heard a word of what she was saying, he was replaying the last couple of minutes in his head, realizing that she had tricked him. This bloody, brilliant witch who was chattering in front of him, her eyes lit up with excitement, had tricked him. Blaise was never going to let him live this one down.

Hermione woke him up early the next day, her face glowing with her excitement.

"Draco!" she sung, as she threw open his bedroom doors.

He rolled over and put his head under his pillow, trying to block out her voice.

"Draco," she said again, a little more sharply, "You aren't getting out of this one, nope, you agreed! Come on!" She said as she shook him.

He continued to turn away from her. She sat on the bed and continued to shake him trying to draw some reaction out of him, but he continued to ignore her and bury himself further under the covers. She finally stood up, fed up, and stomped her feet before grabbing a fistful of his sheets and pulling them off of him. Draco shot up in the air, reacting to the cold.

Hermione's eyes went wide, her face flushing to a deep, cherry red as she took in the sight of a nearly naked Draco.

He had silk, black boxers on and nothing else. His hard, pale chest rising deeply as he shouted about 'a bloody, nuisance of a witch with no respect for beauty rest.'

"I'm sorry," she stammered as she threw the gray sheets back at him before walking quickly out of the room. "Be ready in 30 minutes!" she shouted at him behind the closed doors, "or I will come in there again."

He heard her hurried steps carrying her further from his bedroom before looking down at himself. His chest was slightly flushed but everything important was covered. He felt his hair and realized it was a complete mess before groaning. He quickly got out of his bed and dressed before Hermione had any reason to come back. He was already having troubled thoughts about her, he didn't need her storming back in here, sitting on his bed, putting her hands on his bare chest. He shook the thoughts away before running down the stairs, he grabbed a piece of toast before meeting her in the entryway, right on time. Punctuality was a trait beaten into him.

She glanced at him, her checks turning a light pink, before she cleared her throat, "About time you got down here pretty boy. I swear, you take more time then me to get ready in the morning!"

"Oh," he said, "So you think I am a pretty boy," he winked at her, turning her scarlet, "well, my dear, it certainly wouldn't hurt for you to take more time to get ready in the morning." He looked pointedly at her hair.

"Ass," she murmured before grabbing his hand and dragging him onto the lawn with her. She didn't even give him time to swallow his toast before apparating them away.

When they landed he was coughing on his toast and glaring at her.

"This house," she said sweetly, "is out in the country, in Hangleton, it is a nice little two story cottage, located near the town square. That," she pointed, "is the bakery, they have the best donuts and cream puffs." She licked her lips looking at the store front longingly, "Maybe, we can stop there before we head to the next house?"

Draco just stared at her before she gave a little huff.

"Fine, I will stop there and you can continue to choke on your toast!"

She led Draco up the pathway to the front door. It looked like it was ready to fall off.

"Well, it needs a little bit of work, but nothing a little hard work can't fix! Ya know," she rattled on, "it was hard to find a home that I thought you would think was suitable. I know that the town is important to you, a prominent wizarding community, and then of course the house itself had to have enough rooms and a study for you, and an area for the library. Most smaller homes don't have that kind of space, but I really didn't think you needed another manor, now that is too much space for you, you barely use a quarter of the manor now."

She continued to rattle of facts about the home as they made their way through the broken down house. The floor boards groaning in protest beneath them as they moved throughout the house. Draco thought the stairs were going to collapse when they made their way up the stairs and protested against their weight on the way down. Hermione finally showed him the backyard. It was a large, flat yard with a couple of trees around the perimeter, it was unimpressive compared to the gardens of the manor, the whole house was unimpressive really.

He turned to Hermione, "What are you trying to do, kill me?" he jokingly asked.

She just shrugged, "I mean it needs a little work, but I think it could be great."

Draco pointed to a house on the hill, "Do you know whose house that is?"

Hermione nodded slowly, "Salazar Slytherin's ancestry home, I thought that would be what you liked about the house, it is such an important town, especially for you."

Draco just shook his head. "Maybe this isn't a good idea, I don't see how moving here would help my reputation, you have Salazar's home and Voldermort's childhood home here, won't this make it seem like I am even more of a dark wizard? I don't think moving to an elite pureblood community is the answer."

"Yes, well I thought about that," Hermione said biting her lip, glancing up at house. "I just wasn't sure how, how open you would be to different areas. We can try again!"

"Hermione," he started before being whisked away by her again, his voice dying away with the sudden rush of the wind. His gut, tumbling in his stomach before they landed on the hard pavement with a 'pop'

Hermione showed him several houses, none of which were convincing him to move out of the manor. Her face fell after each house that she showed him, and with each refusal she bit her lip before exclaiming that the next house was it, she just knew it.

They landed with a hard jolt on soft grass. Draco gripped Hermione's hand as he tried to steady himself from the landing. He was looking greener and greener after every apparition.

"This," he wheezed, "is the last house, Hermione. I am done after this."

"Oh it's only because you haven't eaten, stop being such a baby, it doesn't matter anyway, this house is it. I know it. It has a beautiful English garden in the backyard, it isn't as big as the manor but not many places are. This one is my favorite, just wait until you see it Draco!"

She pulled him along the cobblestone pathway to the house. It was made of stones and had two strong wooden pillars in the front of the house. There was a beautiful marble fountain in front of the house. Birds were chirping happily as they played in the water. The big, wooden door was intricately carved with old ruins.

"For protection," Hermione stated running her fingers along the edges.

The house had dark wood floors and tall ceilings. There was a large entryway with arched ceilings. Hermione grabbed his arm and led him through the first door.

"Your study, because I know you like to think you are important." She smirked and rolled her eyes at him. "And look at the built in shelves and that desk, I would love to have a study like this."

She led him into the family room which had more built in shelves next to the fireplace and a large window that let in all the sunlight. Draco felt the warmth of the sun on his skin and marveled at how much light spilled through the windows, he almost felt like he was outside. Hermione continued to drag him around the house, pointing out everything that she loved about it. The beautiful wooden floors, the marble kitchen, the chair rails, the intricate stair case, and the built in shelves that seemed to be in every room. She finally led Draco outside to the garden. It wasn't as pristine as the gardens at the manor, but it was beautiful. This garden was overflowing with life. He could hear the soft buzz of the birds and bee's around him, humming softly as they went about their work.

There was a small, paved patio that took up a small portion of the backyard. The rest of it was overcome with plants and animals. Draco thought he could see a stag in the distance.

Hermione drew in her breath, "Isn't it amazing!?" she asked in awe.

Draco could do nothing but nod his head in agreement.

"Let's go take a turn about the garden." She grabbed for his hand and they took in the sites of the backyard, together. Another fountain in the center of it all. A pond with fish in the corner and roses and lilies everywhere he turned

"Isn't it perfect Draco?"

"It's…. it's very nice," Draco said, "But where will I play Quidditch? This place, "He gestured to the flowers around him, "is no place to play Quidditch."

"Ohh," Hermione exclaimed," I almost forgot about that. There is a nice community field, they play pick-up games every Saturday and there is a league on Sunday. Anyone can join. Harry loves it!"

Draco narrowed his eyes, "Harry?"

"Oh, he is the one who found this place, he lives down the block, I actually think he might be your closest neighbor, the houses are private but the town center has so many cute shops!"

Draco groaned, "I don't want to live by Harry."

"Oh stuff it Draco! This home is perfect, besides you see Harry nearly as much as I do."

Which was true, Hermione had invited Harry over for dinner at least once a week. She would sometimes invite Ron, who had gotten over just glaring at Draco after the first couple of awkward visits. They actually talked about Quidditch quit a bit and he even went to a few of the Weasley Sunday dinners. They all had played a few pickup games on the pitch behind the Malfoy gardens. Harry and Draco got a long a lot better than he and Ron and they actually corresponded quite a bit. Harry asked for Draco's advice a lot in regards to politics and issues at the Ministry. He knew Harry wasn't asking because he thought of Draco as a dark wizard but was asking because he knew Draco had insight that Draco knew how Dark wizards thought and acted. Draco was happy to help, it made him feel good to be able to do something at least, he wasn't able to go back to his families business yet, but Hermione said she was working on it.

Sometimes Hermione invited Blaise and Harry over, the first couple of dinners were awkward and stiff before they got into a comfortable rhythm. They would drink and play pool late into the night. Hermione leaving them to her own devices.

Draco groaned again with realization, "I am actually friends with Potter, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are! Big, scary Draco is making new friends!" Hermione cooed at him. He just groaned and rubbed his face in irritation.

His offer on the house was accepted within days. Hermione insisted that they redecorate before they move in. She was going throughout the room and dictating colors.

"Neutrals, Draco, Neutrals! That is what helps a house feel warm and like a home, not just a place that one lives." She handed Draco some color swatches as she entered into the study. "I was thinking a nice blue in here or grey?"

"No, green," Draco said definitely.

"But," she whined.

Draco raised his eyebrows at her and cut her off, "Hermione, I thought this was my study and my house! You can't dictate everything that goes on here."

"You are certainly right, Draco," she flustered at him, "But can we please not make the whole house green? It will make it seem so much darker."

"Grey?" Draco asked.

Hermione's shoulders sagged in defeat, "Fine, it's better than green at least."

"I'll tell you what, I will let you decorate your room, however you like and the sitting room library."

"Really!?" Hermione squealed with excitement, "don't worry, I will still leave it with the whole bachelor pad vibe thing, you got going on."

She turned to walk out of the room before Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him.

"I don't want it to be a bachelor pad," he was looking straight into her eyes as she wrinkled them in confusion.

"What do you want it to be then," She asked a slight quiver to her voice.

He drew her closer and bent his head, suddenly he could see his future so clearly in her eyes. He whispered the words, "I want it to be our home, Hermione… I want it to be you and me, together," across her lips before he devoured her mouth. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he ran his fingers through her tangled hair. He felt her knees give out as he held them both upright, felt her kissing him back, her mouth biting at the corners of his lips as he ran his tongue along her pink lips. His hands were everywhere, gripping anywhere he could find and pulling her closer and closer, until she eventually pulled away from him gasping for breath.

She smiled up at him shyly and he smirked at her. "Is that a yes?!"

"Draco Malfoy, the most sought after bachelor, is asking me to be his girlfriend? Why I just might faint, Misstah Malfoy," she drawled in her terrible southern accent.

He gave her a wicked grin before engulfing her in another kiss.


End file.
